Lucy in the Sky

lucky.
    ‘Say hi to Sam for me. And Nathan,’ I slip in sneakily. ‘And Amy,’ I add as an afterthought.
    James calls me back through to the bedroom. ‘Was that Molly?’ he asks. ‘Why can’t she get the time right?’
    ‘Oh, James, give her a break.’
    He humphs. ‘Come back to bed.’ He holds his hand out to me.
    ‘I might go and get us some breakfast from the café.’
    ‘No. Come back to bed.’
    I walk over to his side of the bed, hesitantly. He takes my hands and pulls me down.
    ‘I’m hungry,’ I moan.
    ‘Lucy…’ he says sternly, and starts to kiss my neck. He’s not going to give up, so in the end I give in.
    I don’t cry this time.

Chapter 13
    It’s the Thursday night before Easter and I’m on a packed train on my way to Dunster in Somerset to stay with Mum and Terry. Even Tom and Nick are coming home for the weekend. Tom is bringing his new girlfriend, Meg, and threatening a gruesome murder if we embarrass him too much. This is going to be hilarious! I can’t imagine him with a serious girlfriend.
    This evening I passed up after-work drinks with Gemma and Chloe. I keep meaning to go out with them and I’m sure they’ll stop inviting me if I’m not careful but I genuinely couldn’t help it this time as I’d already booked my train ticket. The great thing is, Mandy’s agreed to let Chloe come on the Milan trip with me next week. She is dying of excitement, whereas poor Gemma is dying of jealousy.
    It’s dark by the time I arrive at the station so I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow morning and see the countryside. Mum and Terry are standing on the platform and they smother me, one after the other. I love Terry dearly now–he’s like a father to me. Certainly more of a father than I ever had, that’s for sure.
    ‘So your mum was telling me about this Lugee account, Lucy?’ Terry says from behind the wheel. Mum’s insisted that I take the front seat beside him.
    ‘Luigi,’ Mum butts in. ‘You know the Luigis, Terry!’ she reprimands.
    ‘Oh, yes, dear, I just keep forgetting. Memory not quite what it used to be, you know…’
    Terry is twenty years older than Mum which makes him sixty-five. But he’s an old sixty-five.
    Mum was only nineteen when she fell pregnant with me. I’m sure I was an accident. My dad was a bit of a hopeless case. Probably still is. I haven’t seen him in years, but the last I heard he’d left his home town of Dublin and was living in a crummy flat in Manchester. Mum left him when I was just a baby. I suspect that under the influence of alcohol he could be quite violent. And he was under the influence of alcohol practically all the time. That I know, at least. Although Mum rarely talks of him.
    ‘So come on, love, when do you go to Milan?’ Terry asks. I fill them in on my forthcoming trip and by the time I’m done we’re home. Mum puts her arm around me and hugs me tightly as we follow Terry up the path to the front door. It’s a chilly evening, so she goes straight into the kitchen and puts the kettle on top of the Aga.
    I love this house. It’s incredibly cosy despite its size. Five bedrooms, three floors; I’m on the top along with Nick and Tom, Mum and Terry are on the first floor with the living room and the spare bedroom, and on the ground floor is a dining room, which we rarely eat in, preferring instead the large country kitchen.
    ‘I was thinking we’d have a nice brandy,’ Terry suggests. ‘Would you rather a brandy, Lucy?’ he asks me.
    ‘Actually I wouldn’t mind a Baileys…’
    ‘Oh, you two.’ Mum smiles. ‘Well, I’m still having a cuppa.’
    Nick is down the pub with some friends. When I hear him stumbling in at midnight, I’m tempted to get out of bed and go and say hi to my little stepbrother. Well, not so little, actually. He’s eighteen now and tall, with very, very short dark hair. A bit of a stud with the ladies, so I hear from Mum.
    Meg, Tom’s girlfriend, is beautiful. Medium-length, light blonde bob and dark brown eyes. She’s a trendy city girl from the looks of her, in skinny jeans and a funky top which I recognise from All Saints. Tom is tall and gangly, with shortish, light brown hair. He’s skinnier than his younger brother, who I suspect has been doing a few weights in his bedroom because he looks more grown-up and manly every time I see him.
    ‘Alright, bro?’ Nick mumbles from the breakfast table. He seems very hung-over.
    Meg stands shyly next to Tom in the doorway. They’ve just